


We’ll meet at the MBB

by Titlark



Series: Mark of a Civilization [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, First Meetings, M/M, Mark of a Civilization references, Mark of a Civilization universe, Moon Base Bar, Pole Dancing, Spin-Off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 05:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20092198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titlark/pseuds/Titlark
Summary: “We’ll meet at the MBB” became an universal “goodbye” among astronauts of all sorts, from charter flight crews flying there and back between Earth, Moon, Mars or Jupiter moons, to highly trained experimental mission teams.Brian May was a part of the latter - at least until today, when his captain announced unexpected news.Story is a spin-off of my main work, Mark of a Civilization, and set 6 years before its events. First meeting of future captain Brian May and his trusted officer John Deacon.





	1. Chapter 1

“Yesterday, my life was in ruin  
Now, today, I know what I'm doing  
Got a feeling, I should be doing alright  
Doing alright...”

The famous Moon Base Bar was cramped that night. Not because it would be so much better, more modern or cheaper than any of the other establishments around the Sea of Fecundity Spaceport. But it had been the first one. Starting off as a small pub for several pilots, techs and builders, it grew along with the base (which by now had reached a size of a city), keeping its clientele by tradition. “We’ll meet at the MBB” became an universal “goodbye” among astronauts of all sorts, from charter flight crews flying there and back between Earth, Moon, Mars (very little) or Jupiter moons (popular holiday destinations) to highly trained experimental mission teams, those nerds who appeared every once in a while to get briefly famous, rich and awarded only to disappear into deep cosmos again, living for years cramped at each other’s backs, living out of nutritional protein paste and a water recycled from their own urine.

You got anything you wished for at the Moon Base Bar. Its ten floors indicated clearly what you could expect from each of them. There were luxurious private salons for the admiralty at the very top, the kind with glorious view of the Earth, velvet cushions, champagne, caviar and respectable staff. Descend several floors lower, however, and you find a haven of alcohol of all sorts, drugs (classical, experimental, and the “wheel of fortune” ones), frenetic dancing, all the stages of undress, and naturally sex workers, men, women or other, who could fulfil any wish or kink you might have, as long as you presented yourself with enough money to make your point. Everything was possible at the MBB. No need to say, occasionally, even those from the top level accidentally wandered downstairs. 

The fifth floor still belonged to the relatively decent ones. Not exactly a place you’d take your family for a Sunday lunch, but perfect one to find an easy lay for the night or have a cheap beer or two with a friend you haven’t seen for a while and exchange news. And considering that was kind of the point of meeting at the MBB, it was the second or third most popular floor.

Under pleasantly dimmed lights, people sat by the bar or at small tables, drinking, chatting and watching two men currently performing on stage. Guitarist and a bassist, both also singing, the bassist taking the lead. He was generally recognized person, captain Staffel of the Silver Salmon, successfully leading missions around the Kuiper belt. The habit of performing on stage in between missions was well known and received with benevolent lenience as a harmless eccentricity. His companion, curly haired man in the mid-twenties, belonged to Staffel’s team of officers. It wouldn’t take long before he’d be famous himself. His name was Brian May. 

“Where will I be this time tomorrow?  
Jumped in joy or sinking in sorrow?  
Anyway, I should be doing alright  
Doing alright...”

Tim gave his younger friend a small wink before Brian, encouraged, plunged into his guitar solo with even more energy than usual. This, he thought with a smile, this was his place and his moment. Nowhere he’d rather be.  
His heaven lasted for about fifteen more minutes before they ran out of their repertoire.

“Thank you very much for your attention, you were an amazing crowd tonight!” Tim waved in the audience. “See you guys next time! Good night!” 

“This was a good night,” Brian smiled later, when he brought two large baladins from the bar and joined Tim who picked a table in one of the darker corners. On the stage they were followed by another group, playing something, in Brian’s opinion, way cheaper and more commercial. But their pole dancers made a great use of the Moon’s lower gravity (83,3% less than Earth, his brain supplied readily) so it took some self-control to tear his eyes from the nearly flying shapely bodies. 

“We must’ve made a better show than usual, somehow,” Brian continued, smiling. “People were louder, some of them singing with us.”

“We got on stage later than usual,” Tim reminded him, “they’re drunker.” 

Brian watched his best friend’s handsome face. Tim looked without his usual spark, mindlessly spinning a ring on his finger, which he always did when having unpleasant thoughts, Brian knew him well. He waited in silence if Tim shares his worries and when that didn’t happen, he took his hand softly.

“We don’t have to stay here, you know,” he said, smiling, “let’s do whatever you want, I mean, we have a reason to celebrate. We finished a mission!”

Tim nodded. “That’s true, Brimi.”

“So?” Brian asked his superior in expectation. “What is it going to be? Do you want to go down and get properly shit-faced?” Sometimes Tim had those tendencies, and though it wasn’t exactly Brian’s scene, he was usually more than happy to indulge him.

“No, not tonight.”

Brian’s brows furrowed. “You want to go up? Something fancy? One of the waiters there owes me a favour, he might even sneak us to the red lounge.” 

Tim smiled. “You’re really kind, Brimi, but no, not tonight.”

“Or maybe...,” Brian’s heart fluttered as he caressed the hand he was holding and leaned more forward, “... maybe we can just leave and... have our own fun. I had a room assigned before we went here.” Tim didn’t decline immediately and that was enough to make Brian’s breath quicker. “Tim... it’s been weeks. I would... very much love to.” And very much need to, to be honest.

Tim smiled fondly, considering the thought. Then he shook his head, and upon seeing Brian’s hurt expression, he leaned over the table to rectify with a kiss. Long and sweet, just the way he knew Brian loved. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Brimi...,” Tim sighed, pulling his friend even closed, hand roaming in the bouncy curls. “So beautiful...”

Brian moaned silently. “Then let’s go,” he insisted, “you want to, I want to...”

“I can’t,” Tim declined and pulled back apologetically, “I’m sorry.”

“What is it?” Brian frowned. “You’re not feeling well? Or... you’ve found someone?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Then what is it?”

Tim leaned back, thinking about how he should put this. Brian let him take his time, waiting.

“I...,” he started hesitantly, “... I need to leave in two hours. There’s a transport going to Proxima Centauri. A conference I need to attend.”

“Proxima Centauri?” Brian’s curiosity supressed his disappointment for now. “But that would mean... you signed us for an intergalactic mission?”

“Ehhh... not exactly. Not you... just me.”

“You what?”

“Listen, Brimi,” Tim leaned forward again and gestured to Brian to do the same, “big things are happening. In the past few months they questioned and tested all the captains, head navigators and proven techs qualified for long distance flights. And I’m among those they picked for closer consideration.”

“Congratulations,” Brian smiled and really tried to sound happy for his friend, he really tried. “What kind of mission is that?”

“I can’t tell you. Top secret. But if it happens,” Tim whispered excitedly, “if it happens for me, then, Brimi, God, this is gonna be big! A stunner of the century!” 

“More than Gamma Cephei?” Brian looked a bit sceptically.

“Way more than Gamma Cephei! Listen to me, Brimi,” now Tim spoke little more practically, “I know you’re not exactly thrilled about this. But there’s something for you in it as well.”

Brian leaned back. “I’m listening.”

“As I’m gone from Silver Salmon for the foreseeable future, I suggested your name to the admiralty. They’re going to name you a deputy captain in my absence.”

“Deputy captain!” Brian exhaled, his eyes wide. “Me?”

“Just try to act surprised when they announce it on Tuesday,” Tim reminded. “Baby steps, Brimi. You’ll lead the next Salmon’s mission – and then, who knows, you get a ship and crew of your own. There’s a great future in front of you, I’m sure about that.”

Brian sighed. “I’m grateful, Tim, really. But you know I’d rather...”

Tim silenced him with a short peck. “You’re far too romantic for your own good, Brimi. Especially in this business. Space is hard and cold, you know that. I suggest you grow a thicker skin... not to be eaten. There is only one person whose happiness you need to care about, and that’s you. My advice for today is – stay here after I leave, get drunk, high, both, whatever, and find some lay with a pretty arse.” He winked. “No offence, but you need it – both emotionally and medically.”

Brian pressed his lips together. “Wanted yours. I’m not the one for a random arse, you know that.”

Tim chuckled. “Oh, really, sweet Brimi? If not the one for a random arse, then offer yours to a random dick, is that more acceptable?”

“Tim, I swear-”

“Oh, come now. There’s a lot of pretty people here,” Tim looked around, “some famous ones too. See over there? Jules seems to be in between marriages. Again.” 

Brian shook his head. “Been there, done that, not impressed.”

“Alright then. But look at the opposite side, left corner.”

“Simon Ferocious? Are you kidding me?”

Tim kept searching the crowd, pointed out several other people which also met with Brian’s stubborn disapproval.

“What about... oh, wow,” Tim breathed out, staring over Brian’s shoulder. Brian wasn’t sure if that isn’t some cheap trick, as Tim seemed determined to make him get laid tonight, but turned around nonetheless.

“Where?”

“At the bar. Brown hair.”

Brian frowned. “That girl? Who is it?”

Tim chuckled. “That’s John Deacon, you idiot. Hero of the Fairy King. You've heard about him, right?”

“That’s John Deacon?” He had heard about him, of course he had heard about him, approximately three months ago the name was everywhere but... he imagined the man older, God, way older! This looked nearly like a boy, skinny little thing with a face of a porcelain doll whose cheeks kept the last remnants of cute child-like chubbiness.   
Brian watched the boy/man’s profile as John ordered another drink and a small bowl of cheese crackers.   
He seemed to be alone, listening to the music and watching pole dancers, wearing an expression of mild, distant interest. The one people usually put on in museums or modern art galleries.

“Anyway,” Tim smiled, pleased something finally seemed to capture Brian’s attention, “I really need to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to see you off?” Brian offered.

“Don’t bother,” Tim gave Brian one last tender kiss, “have fun, sweet cheeks. Not any time soon, but... we'll see each other again, I promise.”

Brian nodded. “Good luck, captain. We’ll meet at the MBB.”

Tim grinned. “We’ll meet at the MBB.”

And he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Brian’s stare seemed to be burning a hole between Tim’s shoulder blades until the captain disappeared in the crowd heading out. Brian sat down again, finished his baladin, then Tim’s (he barely touched it), and then, with his mind a bit befogged already, he decided to move to the bar and get some more.

John Deacon was still sitting on his spot, still alone, his bowl of crackers nearly empty. Brian didn’t really mean to address him, but when he turned that direction, he found Deacon’s icy blue stare on him. 

“Hi,” he greeted him, not knowing what else to say. 

John nodded. “Hi.”

Brian decided it was acceptable to sit down next to the younger man.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

John raised an eyebrow. “Can I not drink it if you do?”

Brian chuckled. “Sure.”

He ordered another baladin for himself, for John whatever cocktail he was having and got them almost immediately. 

“I’m Brian May,” he introduced himself, “first officer of the Silver Salmon.”

John looked thoughtful for a short while before he asked: “Kuiper belt?”

Brian nodded. “Exactly.” And added with a smile: “So... you’re John Deacon. I’ve heard about you.”

“Brian,” John interrupted him, “start about the Fairy King and I’ll scream.”

“So noted,” Brian agreed. “Please, don’t.”

“And also,” John continued, “if you’re searching for someone to bed-”

“Not really.”

“Oh, thank God.” John smiled and turned to sip on his drink.

Brian frowned. “Thank God? Would it be such a bad thing to happen?”

John looked at him again, surprised, and swallowed nervously. “It’s not that you’re not handsome or anything-”

Brian raised his hands in defence. “I didn’t mean-”

“I’m just kind of done at the moment,” John explained plainly.

“Oh.” Just now Brian noticed - John was indeed sitting a bit stiffly, and his lips looked suspiciously red and swollen. “Oh, yeah, right.” 

John shrugged. “So maybe later.”

Brian choked on his drink. It needed several hits on his back from John before he could breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” John mumbled, turning back to the bar and taking his glass again.

“No, don’t... it’s... I’m married,” Brian admitted without some bigger context, getting a bit lost in the situation.

John raised an eyebrow. “Well... I have to say your husband is lucky.”

“My wife,” Brian corrected him.

“In that case she’s not so lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“No lady is lucky if she resembles captain Staffell so much,” John deadpanned, “at least I thought it was him when I saw you two snogging few minutes ago.”

He turned to his drink again, sipping on it as if nothing happened, leaving Brian lost for words. The music blasting around them suddenly seemed to be drowned in the deafening silence.

“That was...,” Brian stuttered, “eh, we were... you know...”

“There’s no need to explain,” John shrugged.

“No, listen-”

John giggled. “I mean it, Brian, please, don’t explain anything. As long as it’s fine in your own head, I’m not here to judge. I have my own share of stupid.”

Brian relaxed a bit. “Aren’t you a bit young for having your share of stupid?” he teased. “How old are you, anyway? Eighteen, nineteen?”

“I’ll be twenty-two,” John bristled. “And I was old enough to fix those bloody thermoshields on Fairy King.”

“You’re right. You’re completely old enough to save crews, spy on people, give blowjobs and get fucked by randoes at the MBB’s loos, isn’t it so?”

To Brian’s disappointment, John didn’t even flinch. “It’s very much so. Many randoes insist on talking to me and buying me drinks.”

Brian was amused. “So you’re just being polite?”

“I’m a very polite person,” John replied flatly, but Brian noticed how his lips twitched. “But,” he continued, “what do you mean about spying? I’ve never spied on anyone.”

“What about me and Tim,” Brian reminded, “as we were, I quote, snogging few minutes ago?”

“I had no idea you two were supposed to be a secret,” John finished his drink, a third one already, and ordered another for himself and for Brian, “I suggest next time you go several floors lower. At those places no one would care even if he rides you right on a table wearing nothing but lacy corset and bunny ears. That’s a proven fact.”

“Proven how?” Brian frowned, trying to supress an image of Tim in lingerie. John didn’t answer and maybe that was for the best. Brian noticed the boy was getting a bit flushed and talkative, his eyes shining with alcohol. He didn’t feel sober either.

“Besides,” John continued, “I wasn’t watching you two.”

“No?”

“No,” John leaned to him stealthily. “At the table next to you, admiral Mack’s sweetheart was getting dumped by her own sweetheart.” He grinned. “It seems to be an epidemic here.”

Brian chuckled and turned around. Now he noticed the long-legged fair-haired woman sitting alone, staring blankly in front of her. He kind of wanted to go there and comfort her, but the soberest part of his brain supplied it wouldn’t be a good idea. Instead, he turned back to John, reprimanding him: “Do you have any respect for people’s privacy?”

“When I respect a person, I respect their privacy,” John emptied his glass, “nobody can dump me, you know. That’s why I go for randoes, you know. Free as a ghost.”

“Free as a ghost?” Brian repeated and giggled. 

John gestured to the barman again, which caught Brian’s attention. “You should slow down,” he warned him softly, “or you end up under the table in no time.”

“Would that be such a ba-ad,” John hiccupped, “thing to happen? People get way more bearable this way, you know. Not you, you’re cool.”

“Thanks,” Brian nodded, deciding to take a compliment, even if it was coming from an inebriated adolescent. “Why are other people unbearable?”

John shrugged. “They just, you know, come and tell me that I’m amazing and stuff. And I don’t even know them. Makes me uncomfortable. And they’re always staring. Wherever I go.”

As if given a cue, suddenly a voice sounded behind them. “Can you see, Peter, over there! That’s John Deacon! The one who saved the Fairy King, that one!”

Both Brian and John turned to the young woman who spoke. Her eyes widened as she gestured quickly to the whole group of her friends.  
“Guys, come over here!”

“Fuck off and leave us alone,” Brian reprimanded her quite unscrupulously, “we’re having a chat.”

The girl made a face, but seeing the pips on Brian’s uniform, she left quickly.

Brian expected John to be pleased, but the younger man only frowned. “I’m not-“ hiccup ”a damsel in distress, you know.”

“What if she annoyed me as well?” Brian offered.

“Could be,” John conceded.

They finished their drinks quietly and ordered again. John seemed to be a bit distracted by the music now, tapping his foot to the rhythm.  
“This is a good one,” he announced happily.

Funky soul music wasn’t really Brian’s thing, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, a good one.”

John misinterpreted the hesitation in his answer, leaned to him and patted his back.  
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, as if he was telling a secret, “I liked yours too.” He giggled. “I would play it with you – captain Staffell won’t come back, but we can play anyway. Or is it just for you two, you know, some kind of weird kinky foreplay thing?”

Oh, God, he’s completely wasted, Brian thought, but he found it quite funny. His head was spinning.

“You’re lucky, you know,” John contemplated, “you’ve got two people to cuddle and fuck. I mean... well, I guess you had two people. Now your lover left you- “

“He didn’t leave me!” Brian protested.

“- and your wife isn’t here. But, you know, you still have them. Somewhere. I’ve got people to fuck, Brian, but I don’t cuddle. I want a cuddle too, Brian!” he whined. “Everyone should cuddle!”

Brian agreed heartily, and John flung himself into his arms, but got up again in the next second.

“Come and dance!” John demanded. 

“Oh, no, I can’t-”

“You’re not drunk enough, Brian,” John diagnosed the situation. “Everybody can dance when drunk. That’s a proven thing. And you cheat on your wife and your lover dumped you. You need to get drunk.”

From this point of view, it didn’t look like such a terrible idea. Oh, fuck it, Brian decided, ordered two shots, finished them in a second, and headed with John to the dance floor.

***

The morning after wasn’t exactly the best Brian has ever had. 

His brain almost actively screamed as he slowly rose to consciousness. A sharp, pulsating pain pounded from inside of his head, his body ached, and his mouth felt like a night animal emptied itself in there (and subsequently died).

Where was he?

He looked around. His room, his bed. Oh, good, this was good.

He tried to move more from the edge of the mattress - and froze. He wasn’t alone in there.

On the opposite edge there was John freaking Deacon, fully clothed, sleeping like a baby. And between them, naked as a jaybird, lied admiral Mack’s busty blonde mistress.

“Oh, fuck...,” Brian whispered and quickly checked – he was also fully clothed. He tried to search his memory for the events of the last night, but nothing came.

“Wake up,” he quickly shook both sleepers, “both of you, wake up!”

The request was met with a duet of protesting sleepy groans. John opened his eyes, uncomprehending.   
He looked at Brian, then at the room, at the bed, at the woman and at his feet. For some reason, his trainers were gone, exchanged for glittery court shoes with 7-inches high heels.

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled.

“Same here,” Brian nodded.

John gestured to the woman, mouthing: “Who is that?”

But she woke up as well, nearly jumping up when she realized Brian’s and John’s presence.

“Who ARE you?” she exclaimed.

Brian hissed in pain and softly touched his forehead. “Please, keep it down,” he mumbled, “and... I’m Brian May, it’s... a pleasure to meet you.”

John introduced himself as well, avoiding all eye-contact.

The blonde woman wasn’t amused. “Where are my clothes?” she demanded.

Brian quite unhelpfully looked around the bed, clothes nowhere.

John cleared his throat. “Ehm... are those your shoes?” He gestured to his feet, getting an icy stare.

“Do I look like a stripper?” she growled.

She was completely naked, so, hard to tell, but neither Brian nor John were brave enough to point that out.  
The blonde got up furiously, and after a minute of search, the dress was found in the bathroom, together with her left shoe. 

“Have a nice da-“ Brian started, but she already banged the door shut and left.

Long silence followed. Brian got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face. Cold water helped. He shuffled in his box of medicines, fished out two tablets of Decrapulein and dry-swallowed one. The relief was immediate – the headache ceased, and his stomach no longer felt like filled with lead. God bless whoever invented these anti-hangover meds.  
Refreshed, Brian took the other pill to John.

The young man was sitting at the edge of the bed, head in his hands, and didn’t even look up when Brian sat down to him.

“Here,” Brian whispered, “take this. You’ll feel better.”

John accepted the help, but still hypnotized the ground. “Brian?”

“Hm?”

“Do you... remember anything?”

“Not really,” Brian admitted sheepishly. “Eh... do you?”

John shook his head. “Not a thing.”

Brian had a faint picture of John on a stripper pole somewhere in his mind, but if John couldn’t remember, he certainly wouldn’t the one to remind him of that detail.

“I’ll make tea,” Brian offered and got up again, “and... would you like some toasts? I don’t have many other options here, I’m afraid.”

John didn’t answer for a moment, but then he looked up and smiled. “Tea and toasts would be just great.”

The awkward tension slowly disappeared, replaced with an amicable silence, as they ate breakfast together.  
“So...,” Brian started with a smile while John was happily munching on toasts, and gave his cup a third refill, “... do you think we...?”

John shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Thank God,” Brian sighed and nibbled on his second toast, getting an amused look from John.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you really play bass?” Brian inquired. 

John nodded and reached for another toast. “Yeah, since I was little. And I meant what I said. Eh, I mean,” he added awkwardly and blushed a little, “I meant I would play with you. Not the other stuff about... captain Staffell... or your wife... or you for the matter.”

Brian chuckled. “It’ okay, really. I was true after all. It seems I have a thing for troublemakers. I can’t help it.”

“The world would be boring if people were normal,” John shrugged and grinned, “everybody has an affliction. This might be as well yours. So... do you want to meet sometime this week? To play?”

“I’d love to,” Brian admitted, “but... tomorrow I have to catch a transport to Earth. Chrissie would kill me if I missed Jimmy’s birthday two years in a row.”

“That’s your son? How old is he?”

“He’s four in two days,” Brian smiled fondly, “growing up too quickly for my liking. I plan on spending my three weeks leave with them on Earth, then I’ll have to go out with Silver Salmon again... But after that... we can meet up again. At the MBB.”

John smiled and gestured a toast with his cup. “We’ll meet at the MBB then.”


End file.
